Freak
by aforgottenwish
Summary: Two Shot. Chloe and Lana's musings on the events of Freak. Chloe comes to terms with fate and her future and Lana discusses mistakes, and of course secrets and lies.
1. Chapter 1

_Smallville_ and all of its related elements are copyright © 2001 - 2007 Tollin-Robbins Productions, WB Television and DC Comics. Superman created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster.

Freak

It's probably one of the most terrifying prospects I've ever had to consider. I mean, when you think about it, no matter how good natured a person was before the meteor exposure, they always become… unstable. There were so many people that I used to be friends with and the next thing I know, _wham_, they're pinned up on my Wall of Weird, certified murderous psychopaths.

I didn't always think this way, though; there was one person who completely changed how I viewed meteor freaks. He was this introverted, well meaning farm boy, who, despite the odds, would save people—everyone… anyone.

Clark Kent.

Okay, so, yea, I was in love with him. Lana had given Metal-boy a get-out-of-freak free card when she was smitten with him… but then again, it had been his powers that had cleverly manipulated her into feeling that way. Clark forgave Alicia Baker time and time again for her psychotic episodes—try to kill Lana? That's okay. Kidnap me and force me to marry you? Happens to the best of us.

Given his circumstances, he must have been willing to bend over backwards for any girl willing to love him despite…

Well, that's it though, isn't it? For me, Clark's powers, his abilities, his cryptic origins, have never been a _despite_. They only added to the charisma that is Clark Kent.

Erm… I must have toppled off my train of thought a while ago. Let me try again.

When I thought that Clark Kent was that one in several dozen, the single meteor freak using his powers for good rather than evil, I have to admit, I was swayed. I figured that they couldn't all be that bad, because Clark wasn't. Meteor freaks are just unfortunate people who are different, and the choices they make are the result of their own faulty human wiring, not a result of the powers they've been given.

I've been forced to reevaluate the situation.

Clark's an alien. His inexplicable need to do good isn't still there even though his DNA has been mutated by radioactive rocks. Clark is a case all on his own; there is no one on Earth to compare him to.

So I've returned to my original conclusion. Meteor freaks are crazy. They're crazy because they're meteor freaks; the _thing_ that the Kryptonite does to their bodies, it changes their abilities, and it warps their minds. They lose their grasp on reality, their handle on right and wrong, and they punish people.

It's painful to consider that someday, probably someday soon, I'll be one of them.

The notion of my loosing my sanity has lurked just around the corner since I learned about my mother. She sits in a mental institution, rotting away, and the doctors point at her and say _you're next._

"It's genetic," they had explained. "However, it's a recessive trait, so unless your father had a similar marker."

"We can do tests," they'd said. I had just about run from the room. I didn't want to hear about how I had a 50 chance of receiving this gene from my mother. I didn't want statistics, or genetic tests, or dragging my father into this laboratory to see if he had the trait, too. I didn't want any of it.

I wanted to run. I _needed_ to run away from the prospect that my most valuable possession, my mind, my consciousness, my sense of self, might be another person about to abandon me.

My own sanity might be my mother, leaving me when I was twelve years old. It might be my security, my college fund, ripped away by Luthorcorp. It might be Clark, out growing me and falling in love with the girl next door.

And now, I turn another page in the story of my life; the next page is more frightening than the last. More ominous; it's like an angry mob chanting for my head to be mounted on a post in front of the palace. It's wondering if this sunrise is your last.

I woke up one day, in my bed, and it seemed like it should have been a day like any other. I was pumped to aid Clark in his quest to save the world. I was excited to see Jimmy, my new boyfriend, which, in and itself thrilled me, because that meant I was starting to have feelings for this surrogate love-of-my-life.

I wander into the Talon and hear Jimmy professing his love to me, in a very enthusiastic, romantic, and more than slightly distressed way. The saving the world situation for the day is none other than finding Chloe Sullivan and bringing her home.

Wait… what?

So, according to the over-eager photographer and his wide-shouldered friend, I've been missing for over a day.

A _day_. In normal instances, of course, a day passes without a second thought. I've had like 7000 of them in my whole life, so why should one blacked out day make much of a difference?

My mind raced immediately to the image of my mother in a white room, looking so desolate, so lost. I felt lost like that for a minute; a whole minute of thinking that this was _it_, it was starting now—I was loosing my mind at last. Then, Clark reminded me about how there had been strange kidnappings with the exact same modus operandi—abducted and then returned with no memory of the incident.

There was a momentary rush of relief.

However, the pattern of quick fire emotions that had been plaguing me since I'd awoken continued as I realized the real reason that I'd been taken.

I was a meteor freak. _I_ was a meteor freak.

I'm a meteor freak.

I'd never really given destiny a second thought before that. Sure, in passing, I'd remarked that Clark and Lana were meant to be together (obviously I was proven wrong by the impending nuptials), but fate isn't something a high school girl contemplates. Or even, a kid in college, struggling through an internship at a high profile newspaper.

But now, the thought crossed my mind. It did more than cross my mind, really, it fell down from a million feet above and left a gaping crack across my mind.

I stopped sleeping. It was hard for me to get through each day knowing that it was true.

I was destined to end up like my mother.

Whether by genetics, or by some weird, alien rock induced scrambling of genetics, I realized that the same white room that my mother occupied was soon going to be my home.

The look of emptiness that haunted her face would plaster itself across my own face.

My destiny, my future as determined by some force out of our control, was to have no future.

I'm starting to realize that I'm nothing… nothing but a freak.


	2. Chapter 2

_Smallville_ and all of its related elements are copyright © 2001 - 2007 Tollin-Robbins Productions, WB Television and DC Comics. Superman created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster.

Q

His arms wrapped around me, and he pulled me close. I buried my head in his neck, closing my eyes to better appreciate his professional, tailored smell.

I think I've made a mistake.

I've stopped believing in coincidence. It wasn't a coincidence that Clark was at Tobias' house so soon after our miraculous rescue. It wasn't a coincidence that Clark happened to be standing under the glass spotlight that I fell through. It wasn't a coincidence when Clark found me after the tornado destroyed my truck.

And, in a slightly less life-saving way, I'm sure it wasn't a coincidence that Lex was meeting with the same man the tried to kill me. I'm sure that Lex's ability to be informed about all things meteor related has suddenly waned in light of this new incriminating evidence.

He swore on the soul of our unborn child.

That wasn't the first hint, I think, that there might be something more than slightly amiss with this pregnancy. The first was my complete lack of growth in the abdominal region. I'm skinny, I know, but if there's child inside of me shouldn't it be observable by now?

I'm sure that he's lying to me. This terrifies me—our relationship is built on my ability to trust him, to expect the truth from him all the time. It's common knowledge that this is where my relationship with Clark fell apart.

So I start to wonder, should I marry him? Can I possibly go through with this, knowing that Lex is keeping things from me? What does Lex know about my baby? Can I risk my baby's life on my naïve trust for Lex?

I'm having doubts, then. I should be, right? No one should enter into something without having considered all the options, especially something so serious as marriage. My husband is supposed to be the person that I can journey through the rest of my life with; someone I can love, someone I can admire. I'm starting to worry that Lex might not be this person.

And whist "considering my options" I come upon that chapter of my life that is Clark, and wonder if, maybe, I shouldn't be flipping backward. A relationship with Lex seemed… safe when compared with the debacle that was Clark and I. Lex always knew how to say the right things—but then again, so did Clark, once upon a time. When I was struggling with my Whitney relationship, Clark was there, and when I leaned on him for support I slowly fell in love with him.

In the same way, I fell in love with Lex.

But it was never quite the same. I never doubted that Clark was genuinely a good person, trying to do the right thing, even if sometimes he may have been misguided.

His secrets: that's what kept us apart.

Asides from that, though, asides from the fact that when he lied he sprawled it all over his face—perhaps what we had was real. Perhaps Lex is just a better liar. That prospect terrified me more than anything; more than raising a child alone, more than never finding someone to trust; at least Clark was trustworthy in that I always knew when he was being untrustworthy.

What I'm faced with now is this huge, looming dilemma; and though I put off making a decision, and I avoid Lex and I avoid Chloe with her omnipotent knowledge of all things Clark, I know that I'm just procrastinating.

It's funny—when I wore pink sweaters and lip gloss I never did that.

I can't marry Lex, and I can't jump back into a relationship with Clark. I love Clark, I know that I do, but what happened between us can't just be erased.

There's something about Clark that makes him different than anyone else: the way he always manages to catch me when I fall' the delicate way that he touches me, as thought he's afraid I'll break; his need to do right, no matter how bad it makes him look, or the danger it puts him in.

Yes… there's something about Clark.

Something that makes him not quite human and before I can forgive him for lying to me—for telling me that he didn't love me—I need to know the truth.

Q


End file.
